A Different Path
by Sparkle731
Summary: An idealistic college student meets an embittered ex-Viet Nam Vet. This is an Alternative Universe story that takes a different slant on how Starsky and Hutch meet. CHAPTER 13 & 14. Story is now complete.
1. Chapter 1

**A DIFFERENT PATH**

**An idealistic college student meets an embittered ex-Viet Nam Vet. This is an Alternative Universe story that takes a different slant on how Starsky and Hutch meet.**

**EPILOGUE**

**September 25****th****, 1963**

**Brooklyn, New York**

Rachel Starsky sighed as she sorted through the mail. Still no letter from her eldest son, David, who was stationed in Viet Nam. It had been almost six weeks since she had received a letter from her son, not that uncommon due to the mail delivery between Southeast Asia and the States. But, that didn't stop her from worrying about her oldest child. Especially with all the terrible reports she heard on the news each day about the fighting over there. Everyday, some other mother she knew in the close knit Jewish neighborhood was receiving the news that no mother wants to hear, that their child had been killed in that god forsaken place.

"No letter from Davey?" her youngest son, Nicky, asked hopefully as he watched his mother sort through the daily mail. Rachel shook her head sadly. Despite the four years difference in their ages, the two Starsky brothers were close. At fifteen, Nicky was old enough to understand his mother's concern for David's welfare. He still remembered how upset she had been when David received his draft notice shortly after he graduated from high school. She had been even more upset when he completed basic training and called to tell her that he was being shipped out to Viet Nam.

Every day since then, she had checked the daily mail religiously, hoping to find a letter from David. When she received one, it was a cause for celebration, concrete proof that he was safe. When weeks went by without hearing from him, she worried constantly until she finally heard from him. She had already lost her husband to violence and was terrified of losing her eldest son to the same fate.

Michael Starsky had been a police officer, well liked and respected in their neighborhood. When David was twelve and Nicky was eight, he had been gunned down on the streets that he helped to patrol every day. The close knit family had been devastated by the loss, but his death had hit David the hardest. The angry pre-teen had started hanging out with the wrong crowd and had gotten into a lot of trouble. Finally, Rachel had taken the drastic step of sending him to California to live with his aunt and uncle until after he graduated from high school.

The years apart had not weakened the bond that held the family together. David called religiously every Friday night and spoke to both his mother and Nicky. And every summer, he came back home for six weeks before returning to California. After he graduated, he had been planning to move back home but then he got drafted.

Rachel went into the kitchen to start preparing supper. Maybe she would get a letter from David tomorrow. She heard the knock on the front door and Nicky getting up to answer it. A moment later, the teenager's voice called out, "Ma, there's someone here to see you." Something in the tone of her son's voice stirred Rachel's maternal instincts and she hurried into the living room to see who her unexpected visitor was. She stopped, her eyes widening in alarm and her heart pounding frantically in her breast, at the sight of two men, both dressed in full military dress uniform, standing poised in the doorway.

"Rachel Starsky?" one of the men asked in a formal sounding voice, his dark eyes piercing through to her very soul.

"Yes." she replied "I'm Rachel Starsky. What can I do for you gentlemen?" Rachel was surprised at how calm her voice sounded when she was falling apart inside.

"I'm Captain Lewis and this Chaplin Markett." the man said "I'm sorry to inform you that on September 2rd, 1963, your son, Private David Michael Starsky was reported Missing In Action in Viet Nam and is presumed to be dead."

"Nooooo…" Rachel cried, a long drawn out moan of grief and sorrow at the words that she didn't want to hear. Instantly, Nicky was at her side, slipping a strong arm around her waist to support her when her knees wanted to buckle beneath her.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am." the man that had been introduced as the Chaplin said gently. "Is there anyone you would like for us to call for you?"

"I'll take care of it." Nicky said firmly. "Just please go and leave us alone." The adolescent stood tall and proud at his mother's side, struggling to control his own emotions, as he angrily blinked back the tears that stung his eyes. Although he did not know the two men standing in their doorway, he hated them for being the bearers of bad news and wanted them out of his sight.

The two men nodded and turned to leave, walking down the front walk to a black sedan parked at the curb. Nicky shoved the door closed with his foot and gently helped his mother over to the threadbare sofa. Settling the softly sobbing woman down onto the cushions, the teenager reached for the phone to call their Rabbi, who in turn would notify other family members of the latest tragedy to befall the Starsky family.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

**July 31****st****, 1968**

**Brooklyn, New York**

Rachel Starsky took the pot roast from the oven and carefully set the pan on the kitchen counter. As she transferred the succulent meat from the pan to a serving platter, she smiled softly at a fond memory of her eldest son, David, who had been reported MIA in Viet Nam five years ago. She had joking referred to this meal as t_he Paul Muni special. _It had always been one of David's favorite meals and one of the few ways she could get him to eat his vegetables.

Her son, Nicky, appeared in the doorway, drawn to the kitchen by the delicious aroma of the roast. At twenty, he bore a strong resemblance to his deceased father, with the same dark curly hair, olive toned complexion and dark blue eyes. But, it had been David, her eldest, who had been almost a mirror image of Michael Starsky. Rachel missed them both desperately and still mourned for them. Every Sabbath, she lit a candle to honor their memory at the Temple.

David's body had never been recovered, lost forever somewhere deep in the jungles of Viet Nam. Rachel had consented to a small memorial service but, without a body to place in hallowed ground, she had refused to allow a headstone for her son to be placed beside that of her husband.

"Smells great, Ma." Nicky said with a crooked smile. "I'm starving."

"Just like your father and David, you're always starving." Rachel said fondly. "Are you going out tonight?"

"Yeah, I told Mickey I'd help him unload a truck at the warehouse." Nicky said "I may not be home till late so don't wait up." Rachel nodded her head and returned to her task. Nicky was often secretive about his activities outside the house and Rachel kept silent. She did not approve of most of Nicky's friends, so he seldom brought them around. She suspected that he might be involved in some illegal activities but was too afraid to confront him. The truth was, she really didn't want to know. Since David's death, Nicky had grown wild and out of control. And now he was an adult who still lived under his mother's roof but was rarely there.

"Did you get the mail?" Rachel asked as she sat their meal on the table. Forced to work outside the home to make ends meet, Rachel didn't get home most days until after five and then fixed supper. Nicky usually collected the mail when it ran earlier in the day and left it on the coffee table for her to sort through after they had eaten.

"Yeah." Nicky said, helping himself to a generous serving of pot roast. "There was a certified letter for you that I had to sign for. I think it's from that MIA group again."

Rachel nodded. Since David's death, she had received regular correspondence from a group that offered support to the families of men who had been declared Missing in Action. Whenever someone's body was found that had been declared MIA, all the families received a formal notice. It was like a tearing a scab from an open wound each time one of those letters arrived but Rachel was thankful that it at least brought some peace of mind to another grieving family.

They finished their meal in silence. Afterwards, Rachel cleared the table and then went into to read the mail while Nicky grabbed a cold beer out of the refrigerator. He had just popped the top when he heard his mother cry out, a sound that was a cross between a scream and a sob. Dropping the beer to the kitchen floor, it shattered unnoticed, as Nicky hurried into the living to see what had happened.

He found his mother on her knees beside the sofa, a sheet of paper clutched tightly in her right hand, sobbing almost hysterically. With a trembling hand, he reached down to gently take the letter from her hand, already afraid of what it was going to say. David's body had been found. He was sure of it. It was the only reasonable explanation for his mother's emotional outburst. His eyes widened in stunned amazement as his eyes skimmed over the brief letter.

_Dear Mrs. Starsky,_

_It is my privilege to inform you that your son, Private First Class David Michael Starsky has been found alive in South Viet Nam and is currently receiving medical care at a military facility in Germany. He will be arriving back in the states as soon as he is medically cleared to travel. _

_Please feel free to contact me for further information. You may reach me at 999-555-2376, extension 318. Monday thru Friday between 7 AM and 8 PM. _

_Sincerely,_

_Captain Edward Harrison_

_United States Army_

_Fort Benning, Georgia_

"Oh, my god…Davey's alive." Nicky said in a stunned voice, sitting down heavily on the sofa. He wasn't sure how he felt about the news that his oldest brother, presumed dead for five years, would soon be coming home. He turned his attention to his quietly sobbing mother. Gently reaching down to help her to her feet, he pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she continued to cry. He realized now that her tears were tears of joy and not of grief.

"David's alive!" Rachel said in disbelief, as she slowly composed herself, looking at Nicky, her eyes shining with tears and joy. "My David is alive! He's coming home…he's coming home."

"Yeah, Ma. Davey's alive and he's coming home." Nicky said in a distracted voice. Selfishly thinking only of himself, Nicky wondered how David's sudden return from the dead would affect his comfortable setup within the family. His mother worked and paid all the expenses while Nicky did what he wanted with his money. He could come and go as he pleased, without answering to anyone, least of all his mother. Accustomed to having his own way, Nicky wasn't about to let David's return jeopardize his spoiled lifestyle.

Rachel spent the rest of the evening on the phone, calling members of her large extended family, and sharing the wonderful news about David. Everyone was overjoyed that he had been found alive after so many years and was finally coming home. Rachel knew without being told that he must have been a POW in one of those terrible camps she had heard about. Brought up hearing horrific stories about the concentration camps that so many Jews had died in during the holocaust, Rachel could only imagine the atrocities that her son must have endured for the past five years. David being found alive was a true miracle, a blessing from God.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

Rachel anxiously scanned the faces of the passengers getting off the bus in the downtown terminal. Her David was coming home today after over five years as a captive in Viet Nam. She had been notified almost 6 weeks ago that he had been found alive. He had spent most of that time in a military hospital in Germany recovering from his ordeal.

Rachel had received various documents from the military detailing his injuries and the list had been a long one. He had been mercilessly tortured during his confinement on a daily basis but had somehow managed to survive. Most of the other men in the camp with him had not been as fortunate. Of the twenty-six men who had originally been held prisoner in the same camp as David, only four other men had been found alive besides David.

Finally, a man stepped off the bus that seemed vaguely familiar. He was thin, almost to the point of emaciation, and his dark hair was cut short in military fashion. But Rachel would know those eyes anywhere. "David!" she cried out joyfully, pushing her way through the crowd to reach her son.

David stood stiffly as she threw her arms around him, embracing him fiercely as she showered his gaunt face with kisses. His arms hung at his sides and he made no attempt to return the embrace. When Rachel stepped back so that she could look at him more closely, he stared back at her, his eyes almost flat and lifeless, missing the spark that had always defined his spirit and zest for life. "David, its mama…" Rachel said hesitantly, reaching out to gently brush her fingertips against her son's cheek. David remained standing there in silence without acknowledging her touch or her greeting. Unsure how to respond to the stranger standing before her, Rachel gently took his arm and said, "Let's go home, baby."

Still without speaking, David obediently let his mother lead him through the crowded terminal to the cab stand in front of the building. Settling into the back seat of the first available cab she saw, Rachel told the driver her address in Brooklyn. David had no luggage, just a battered duffle bag that he had been carrying with him on the bus.

Forty minutes later, the driver pulled up in front of the Starsky home in the quiet, tree lined Jewish neighborhood where David had lived for the first thirteen years of his life.

"Home…" David said in a gravelly voice as he climbed out of the cab. He stood on the sidewalk staring at the familiar surroundings with an awed expression on his face. Rachel smiled broadly, relieved beyond words to hear her son's voice again even if it was barely above a whisper.

"Yes, darling." she said gently, as she took his hand and led him into the house. "You're finally home." David followed her obediently, like a docile child. It was immediately apparent to his worried mother that it might take some time for David to adjust to being home again.

Inside the house, David immediately turned towards the stairs and began to climb up to the second floor. Rachel considered following him to make sure he was all right but decided against it. He wasn't a child, he was an adult and he just needed some time to feel comfortable again. She detoured into the kitchen to fix David's favorite meal to welcome him home.

Upstairs, David wandered down the hallway to his old bedroom and slowly opened the door, stepping inside the tiny room. He tossed his worn duffle bag on the floor and calmly looked around. All these years, Rachel had kept the room exactly as her son had left it when he left home at thirteen. The only thing missing was the clothes he outgrown years ago.

A thin smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he ran his fingertips over the framed picture sitting on the dresser. It was a photograph of a six year old David standing beside his father, who was dressed in his policeman's uniform with his cap perched on his young son's curls. The picture, this room, this house, brought back bittersweet memories of his childhood. A time of innocence lost that had been cruelly torn away when his father was murdered.

His years of captivity as a prisoner of war had left David bitter and disillusioned, a burning rage buried deep inside. The living hell that had been his reality for the past five years had left him a hollow shell of man with no direction or purpose in his life except to survive from day to day, hour to hour, minute to minute. Being rescued from the camp, more dead than alive, he had spent 6 weeks in the military hospital just learning to live again as the horrendous injuries he had suffered slowly healed. Physically, his body had healed, but mentally and emotionally, he was still a broken man.

Since his return to the States, his emotions had been in a turmoil as he tried to adjust to life as a free man again. So many things seemed to have changed in the five years that he had been gone. Life had passed him by as he lay imprisoned in a cage in the jungles of Viet Nam. Over there, time had lost all sense of meaning as he prayed for death to release him, while his stubborn life-force struggled to survive. Most days he wondered why he had been chosen to survive while so many others around him had died a slow, lingering death. He had watched as one of his best friends was skinned alive and left hanging from a tree to die beneath the blistering jungle sun. Similar atrocities were burned deep into his mind and haunted his dreams at night. Even his mother's gentle voice and loving touch couldn't reach the part of himself that he buried long ago, the part of him that had died over there in the jungle with his friends.

Leaving his childhood room, he walked down the hall to the recently remodeled bathroom. Carefully, avoiding the image of himself in the mirror above the sink, he turned on the facets and cupped his hands beneath the water. The simple pleasure of washing his face was only one of the many ordinary things he had been denied during his long captivity. He had been treated as something less than human and, in the end that was what he had become. When his rescue finally came, it was almost two weeks before he finally realized what had happened.

As he left the bathroom and headed back down the stairs, the delicious aroma of his mother's home cooking filled the air. His stomach rumbled with hunger but he knew that he wouldn't be able to do justice to his mother's carefully prepared meal. After learning how to survive on barely any food, often making due on the insects, bugs and maggots that found their way into his cage, his stomach frequently rebelled when he tried to eat.

Nicky was slouched at the kitchen table, drinking a soda, when David walked into the kitchen. It took the older man a moment to realize that the other man sitting there was actually his little brother. Nicky smiled broadly and said with exaggerated enthusiasm,

"Hey, big brother, welcome back. I bet you're glad to be home."

"Yes…" David mumbled as he sat down in his usual spot at the table. He looked across the room at his mother and said softly, "May I have some water?"

"How about a nice cold glass of lemonade?" Rachel said, grabbing the pitcher from the refrigerator and pouring a tall glass full. She smiled as she sat the glass down in front of her son, watching as he slowly lifted the glass and took a cautious sip. She had no way of knowing, and David wasn't about to tell her, that in Viet Nam he was often forced to drink muddy, stagnate water from the puddles on the ground outside his cage when his thirst became too much to bear. David finished the lemonade in one long swallow and held out the glass for more.

Rachel sat a plate in front of both of her sons before fixing one for herself and joining them at the table. Although Rachel and Nicky tried in vain to draw David into their conversation as they ate, for the most part, he remained silent. After only a few bites of his food, David shoved back his chair and stood up.

"I'm going to bed. I'm tired." he said, turning to walk away. Rachel and Nicky exchanged a puzzled glance as he left the room.

"He's just a regular ray of sunshine, ain't he?" Nicky sneered, finishing his meal and then helping himself to the food that remained on his brother's plate.

"He needs some time. He's been through a lot." Rachel said in defense of her older son. She gave her younger child a stern look. "You should just be grateful that he's home and he's safe."

"Yeah, I know." Nicky said sarcastically "Saint David…returned from the dead." He pushed back his chair and stood up abruptly. "I'm going out." He stalked out of the kitchen, leaving Rachel sitting alone with the remains of her homecoming meal growing cold on the table.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

David grabbed his leather jacket and left the busy restaurant without looking back. It was the third job he had lost in the past month because of his unpredictable outbursts of temper. This time, he had punched out another employee and the owner had threatened to call the police unless he left the premises immediately. Pedestrians on the sidewalk gave a wide berth to the curly haired man with the cold rage burning in his eyes that stalked through their midst.

The flashing light of a local bar beaconed to David, inviting him into the welcoming comfort of the dimly lit building. He sat down on an empty bar stool near the entrance and dug two dollars out of his jeans. The barmaid, a bleached blonde that had seen better days, walked over to him with an exaggerated sway of her heavy hips.

"What can I get you, Doll Face?" she asked, batting her false eyelashes in what she seemed to think passed for being sexy.

"A boilermaker." David told her curtly. Taking his money, the woman walked away, returning in a few minutes with a shot of whiskey and a bottle of beer. David picked up the shot glass and downed the liquor in one gulp, followed by a long swallow of the beer. Here, in the relative anonymity of the bar, he felt safe from prying eyes.

He knew that he had to get a handle on his temper but the cold rage that boiled inside of him demanded an outlet. Even in Viet Nam, he had gained a reputation for solving problems with his fists without much provocation.

A woman slid onto the stool beside. From the low cut blouse that exposed most of her ample cleavage and the short skirt that barely covered her ass, it was apparent that she was one of the neighborhood hookers. Long dark hair hung over her shoulders and brown eyes rimmed with thick black mascara peered at the man beside her. "Hi, baby," she said in a nasal whine. "Wanna party?"

"How much?" David asked bluntly

"Depends on what you're looking for." the girl, who couldn't have been much over eighteen, countered.

"Straight fuck. No extras." he told her

"Big spender." she drawled "For you…twenty-five."

"Make it twenty and you got a deal."

"You got it. I got a cozy little room right upstairs." She slid off her stool and walked away without bothering to look back to make sure that David was following her.

They climbed the steps to the second floor and she opened the first door on the right. The tiny room contained a sagging twin bed with a stained mattress and nothing else. Shutting the door behind them, the girl looked at David expectantly. He dug in his jeans and pulled out a twenty dollar bill, folding it and stuffing it down between her breasts. The girl smiled, showing a mouthful of badly stained teeth, and said, "Okay, baby…how do you want me?"

"Bend over the bed." David ordered. The girl did as he instructed, bracing her hands against the cheap wooden footboard and sticking out her ass at him. David stepped in behind her and flipped up the short skirt to undercover her nudity. Fumbling with his belt, he unzipped his jeans and pulled out his semi-erect cock. A few quick strokes of his hand quickly brought him to a full erection. Without any hesitation, he lunged forward with his hips, burying himself deep inside of her with one thrust. Grabbing her hips with both hands to keep her in place, he grunted as he closed his eyes and fucked her. Since it had been a long time since he'd been with a woman, even a whore, he came almost immediately. Withdrawing, he stuffed his sticky cock back into his jeans and zipped up, leaving the room while the girl was still rearranging her clothes.

He climbed back down the steps and left the bar, squinting against the glare of the mid-day sun. The empty act of sex with the nameless hooker had relieved some of his tension but none of his anger. He strolled down the sidewalk with no particular destination in mind. He didn't feel like going home and facing the disappointed look in his mother's eyes when he told her that he had lost another job because of his temper.

Even after almost six weeks of being back in New York, he still felt out of place and at loose ends. He'd have to look for another job tomorrow. He still had some money left from the settlement that he'd received from the army when he was officially discharged but it wouldn't last for long. Most of it had gone on buying clothes since he didn't have much to wear and he wasn't going to strut around in army fatigues. Since he preferred blue jeans and tee shirts, he'd been able to fill up his closet without going broke. He often wondered how Nicky made his money to be able to afford the sharply creased slacks, silk shirts, and gold chains that he wore but figured that he was better off not asking.

Noticing a small park across the street, he crossed the road amid the honking of angry drivers as he darted in and out between them. He flipped up his middle finger at a particularly irate driver as he stepped up onto the opposite sidewalk. He spotted an empty bench underneath the shade of a large tree and headed towards it. Sitting down, he stretched out his long legs and let his eyes slowly sweep across the landscape. Young children, watched over by their cautious mothers, played on a nearby swing set while across the way, a pretty brunette was walking her dog, a feisty white poodle that kept pulling on it's leash. Some runners, male and female, were jogging on a nearby path and under another tree farther away, a young couple sat on a blanket making out. The setting was peaceful and quiet, soothing the brunet's nerves.

David leaned back his head and closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face. He had always enjoyed being out in the sun until he was caged in the sweltering jungle under a blazing sun that burned his skin and left him gasping for breath. That was one of the things he had loved about California, the warm temperature all year round. He had always hated the cold, dismal New York winters with the piles of gray slush instead of snow. He missed Bay City and his former life there but after his discharge from the military, he had felt an almost desperate need to reconnect with his mother and his brother, the only two surviving members of his immediate family.

His mother had not changed that much in his absence, she had just gotten older. But, Nicky was a sullen stranger that didn't seem to want much to do with his older brother. He was seldom at home and when he was it was usually just long enough to shower, eat the food his mother prepared and get a couple of hours sleep before he was gone again. David recognized the signs from his own youth. He suspected that Nicky was either running numbers or dabbling in stolen goods. But that wasn't any of his concern. He had his own personal demons to deal with. Finally, he shoved himself to his feet and started his long walk home. Rachel was just finishing up supper when he walked in the front door.

"David? Is that you?" Rachel called out from the kitchen.

"Yeah, Ma," he said, appearing in the doorway "It's me."

"Wash up. Supper's ready."

Starsky nodded as he walked over to the kitchen sink to wash his hands before eating. His appetite had improved marginally and he was slowly regaining the weight he'd lost during his captivity but he was still painfully thin. At least he could usually finish his food now without it making a repeat appearance later. The smell of fried chicken, another one of his favorites, filled the tiny kitchen. Although the family was Jewish, they didn't observe the kosher rituals of their religion. The only meat that Rachel absolutely refused to serve was pork.

As Starsky took his place at the table, Rachel said, "It's just the two of us tonight. Nicky is out with his friends." She smiled as David helped himself to some chicken and mashed potatoes. A typical Jewish mother, she prepared comfort foods for her children and enjoyed watching them eat it. She was relieved to see that her David was finally getting his appetite back and starting to regain weight. He was still much too thin for her taste. Like his father, he had always had a lean, muscular build but he still bordered on being downright skinny. "How did work go today?" she asked. She knew that David didn't like his job at the restaurant and hoped that he would be able to find something he liked better soon.

"I got fired." David said without elaborating.

"Oh, David…" Rachel said in a disappointed voice. "Not again. What happened this time?"

"Some jerk started mouthing off about ex-vets getting all the decent jobs and so I popped him in the mouth."

"David Michael!" Rachel scolded him gently "How many times have I told you about fighting?"

"He started it and he got what he deserved." David said defensively. "I'll find something else tomorrow."

"I hope so." Rachel said. She was worried about David's temper. He had always had his father's volatile nature and his habit of fighting had gotten him into trouble more than once when he was a teenager. That was one of the reasons she had sent him to California. Now he seemed to be walking around looking for a reason to fight most of the time and it didn't seem to take much to set him off.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

**"**Hey, Davey Starsky! When did you get back in town, man?" a familiar voice called from across the bar room. David turned to look at the big man with the tattoos up and down his arms walking towards him. Ice hadn't changed that much since they were kids, except to get bigger, his muscles bulging out from under his tank top. His real name was Scott but everyone on the streets called him Ice because of his cool, detached way of fighting. In David's earlier years, they had both ran with a local street gang called The Cougars. David had learned how to fight, down and dirty, street style from Ice.

"Hey, Ice." David said as his old running buddy slid into the booth across from him. "Long time no see."

"I heard you were back from the dead." Ice said with a chuckle. "I always knew that those gooks would never take you down." Ice had been drafted shortly after Starsky and had spent eighteen months in the jungles of Nam. He was one of the lucky ones. He'd been able to come back home when his tour of duty ended.

"They came close…too damned close." Starsky admitted. A thin smile crossed his face. "So what have you been up too while I've been enjoying my stay in the jungle?"

"Not much…same old, same old. Me and some of the old gang hooked up. Been keeping busy doing some trade on the east side. I could cut you in if you're interested."

He looked at his old friend closely. "We can always use another good man with your skills. You always were one of the best wheel men I've ever seen."

"I haven't done any shit like that in a long time." David said "Not since Ma shipped me off to California."

"Yeah, that sucked. Things just weren't the same after you left." Ice said "Little Joey never could get the hang of driving the way you did."

"So what do you need a wheel man for? You back into heisting cars?" David asked, easily slipping back into the familiar jargon of the streets.

"Now and then…if we find a real beauty that we can't resist. The money's good…you know that."

"Yeah, I know. But, we're not kids anymore. Get caught this time and it's hard time."

"Who said we're gonna get caught? Especially with you behind the wheel."

Ice cajoled him with a smile.

"I'll think about it. Okay?"

"You do that." Ice said, shoving himself to his feet. "By the way, we hang out at the Golden Slipper on Forty-Second street. Why don't you drop by tonight around eight? I'm sure the other guys would like to see you again."

"I might do that." David said "I'd kinda like to see them too. It's been a long time."

"Too long, bro. You take care. I'll catch you later."

David watched the big man walk away, his well known figure commanding respect as he pushed his way through the crowd. David had to admit that the idea of hooking up with his old gang was tempting. It was easy money and not much of a hassle. He didn't have much else going for him since he came back to the States. But, he also knew how upset his mother would be if she ever found out that he was running with his old crowd again. His juvenile record was sealed when he turned eighteen so it hadn't stopped him from being drafted. Still, the minor offenses he had committed as a juvenile were nothing compared to the trouble he could get into as an adult if he hooked back up with Ice and the gang. There was no doubt in his mind that they were into a lot heavier action than just heisting a few cars here and there.

David finished his drink and ordered another. He had found another dead end job driving a cab on the graveyard shift. The hours sucked but he could work alone and not have to answer to anyone except at the end of his shift when he turned in his fares for the night. It suited the brunet's restless nature as he blended into the darkness. Most of his fares were generally drunks too intoxicated to drive home by themselves or hookers splurging for a cab ride home after a long night of turning tricks and the occasional couple going home after a night on the town.. With his rugged good looks, crooked smile and Starsky charm, David usually had no trouble conning them out of a few extra dollars that he didn't have to turn in.

David went home to catch a few hours sleep and got up in time to eat supper. After eating, he told his mother that he was going out for a while before he had to report to work for his midnight shift. Rachel didn't question him. Accustomed to Nicky's coming and going as he pleased, she didn't want to make it seem like she was trying to interfere in David's social life.

The Golden Slipper was a stripper joint on the lower east side of the city that was frequented by the biker crowd and local street gangs. In his faded jeans with the hole in one knee, the blue tee shirt with the oil stain on the shoulder and his longer hair, David blended right in with the rest of the crowd.

"Hey, Davey!" Ice's voice called from a table in the back "Over here!"

David smiled as he made his way through the crowd towards the group of old friends. Besides Ice, there were four other men sitting at the table. Little Joey, a somber redhead with freckles and glasses. Cooter, a tall thin Latino with piecing brown eyes. Tipsy, a dishwater blonde with a passion for knifes. And Snake, a biker with long dirty brown hair and more tattoos than ice. The five men greeted David enthusiastically with some solid back slapping and a few friendly shoulder punches. As David joined them at their table, Ice immediately yelled for another round of drinks. They were all drinking straight shots of whiskey. David would have preferred a cold beer but raised no objection to drinking what the others were having.

The old friends spent the next hour catching up, not that there was that much to tell. Ice had been married and divorced and had a little boy, while Joey was dating Ice's sister, Amber, and had been since they were in high school. They planned on getting married in the fall. Cooter was running numbers and living with his girlfriend, Cookie, who was expecting a baby in six months and Tipsy had just gotten out of jail after a six months stretch for breaking and entering. Snake was running with both the gang and his biker friends, while dabbling in weed for a select clientele. They had all heard about David's miraculous return from the dead and pressed him for details about his time as a POW but David refused to talk about it.

"So, Davey, my boy," Ice said eventually "Have you thought any more about throwing in with us on a couple of jobs?"

"Naw, I don't think so." David said casually "I don't wanna get back into anything heavy."

"Come on, Davey," Snake wheedled "I got a nice little gig all lined up. All we need is a good driver…" he looked at Little Joey and grinned "At least somebody better than Joey here."

"Hey, nobody drives as crazy as Davey." Joey said defensively "At least I get us back and forth in one piece without the cops on our tail."

"Yeah and, if I remember correctly, even with the cops hot on his ass, Davey could always shake 'em off." Ice said proudly. He smiled at David fondly. "You gotta admit those were some good times. Don't you ever miss it?"

"I haven't really had much time to think about the old days." David said with a thin smile. "I've been too busy trying to keep my head above water since I got back."

"Come on, Davey…" Ice said "Just help us pull off this one job and I'll never ask you to help us again. You could make an easy two grand for a couple of hours of driving. I know you could use the money."

"What's the job?" David asked

"Stealing this sweet little Caddy, all decked out and running fine. An easy fifteen grand from the buyer after it's all cut down and ready to ship out." Snake told him.

"I'll think about it." David said. He pulled some bills out of his jeans and laid them on the table to pay for his share of the drinks. "I gotta get to work. See ya."

"Don't forget, Davey," Ice called after him "An easy two grand for doing what you do best."


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX**

David had just gotten home and was getting ready to hit the sack when he heard the loud knock at the front door. Sighing, he went to see who it was. Rachel had already left for work and Nicky wasn't home, so he was alone in the house. He opened the door to find two uniformed policemen standing on the doorstep. One was a younger officer, probably a rookie with a fresh, innocent face and neatly trimmed hair. The second man was older, in his early fifties with a stocky build, heavy jowls, and a belly that hung over his belt. The older man Starsky recognized immediately. It was his father's old partner, Pete Garrett.

"Hey, Pete." David said with a friendly smile. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you, David. May we come in?" Pete asked in a somber tone that immediately sent up red flags for the brunet.

"Sure…come on in." he said with a hint of frost in his voice. He stepped aside to let the officers into the house, carefully closing the door behind them. He turned to face the two men and said, "Okay, shoot. What's this all about?"

"You were seen last night at a place called The Golden Slipper with Ice and a bunch of the old gang." Pete said "You planning on hooking up with them again, Davey?"

"I didn't know it was against the law to have a couple of drinks with some old friends." David said, staring at the man calmly without showing any fear. "You been checking up on me, Pete?"

"Not you, son. Ice and his bunch have been under surveillance for quite some time." the older man said "Organized crime is ready to move in on them any day now. Imagine my surprise when word got back to me through the grapevine that little Davey Starsky was back in town and meeting up with his old running buddies."

"Let's cut to the chase, Pete." David said in an irritated voice. "What you really want to know is if I'm going back on my word and kicking it with the gang again, right?"

"Something like that. Are you?"

"No."

"And you expect me to believe you?" Pete countered as his young partner stood silently in the background watching the interaction between his partner and the dark haired man.

"I don't really give a fuck what you believe!" David said sharply, raising his voice. He saw the rookie's hand nervously shift towards his gun before turning his attention back to his father's former partner. "I told you, I'm not back in the gang. I just met them for a couple of drinks, that's all."

"For your sake, I hope so." Pete said in a warning tone. "Cause there ain't no second chances this time, Davey. When Ice and the others go down this time, they're gonna do some hard time. I'd hate to see you get caught up in something if you're just hanging out with some old buddies and shooting the shit."

"Okay, you did your duty. You warned me. Is there anything else?"

"I'd just hate to see you go down that road again." Pete said "I owe it to your dad to try and make sure that doesn't happen."

"Leave Pop out of this." David said, a distinctive warning tone in his own voice. "I'm not some stupid kid anymore with a chip on his shoulder."

"No, you're an ex-vet with a chip on his shoulder and a gut full of hate."

"Get out of here, Pete." David said firmly, opening the door to usher the two men out.

"All right, I'll leave…but I'm going to be keeping my eye on you, Davey. I've already got my eye on Nicky." With that parting shot, Pete and his nervous young partner left. David slammed the door shut behind them and struggled to control his mounting anger. He had almost allowed himself to get drug into the middle of something that could have cost him dearly. He had a feeling that as long as he remained in New York, he would never be able to run from his past. Maybe it was time to move on. With heavy steps and an even heavier heart, he climbed the steps up to his second floor bedroom to get some sleep.

When his mother got home from work that evening, she found David sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee. He looked up as she came into the room and smiled faintly. "Hey, Ma." he said "Sit down. I need to talk to you."

"About what?" Rachel asked, feeling a twinge of fear, as she looked into her son's dark eyes. She had a feeling that he was about to tell her something that she didn't want to hear.

"I quit my job today..." he began, staring down into his coffee cup and sighing softly. This was going to be harder than he thought but he knew that it was the right thing for him.

"Oh, Davey…not again!" Rachel interrupted before he could continue, preparing to scold him for being so irresponsible.

"Let me finish," he said, raising his head and holding up his hand to silence her. "I quit my job" he repeated "Because I'm going back to Bay City. I already bought my bus ticket and I leave tomorrow."

"David! No! You can't go. You just got home." Rachel cried, tears glistening in her eyes but not falling.

"Ma, I have to. This isn't my home anymore. We both know that. I don't belong here. If I stay, I'll end up back on the streets just like before."

"Why? Did something happen that you haven't told me about?"

"Sorta. I ran into Ice yesterday."

"Ice! David, you know he's nothing but trouble! Is that where you went last night before you went to work? To hang out with him?" Rachel demanded, her voice rising in anger and concern.

"Yes, I saw Ice and some of the other guys last night but I swear nothing happened."

"Then why this sudden decision to go back to Bay City?"

"Because somebody spotted me with them last night and word got back to Pete Garrett. He paid me a visit this morning."

"Pete? Your father's old partner, Pete?"

"The one and only." David said sarcastically. "He came to warn that the organized crime unit is watching Ice and the others. He wanted to make sure that I wasn't kicking it with them again."

"Surely, Pete knows better than that." Rachel said

"Maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. I'm not sure he believed when I told him I just met them for a couple of drinks. He'd said he'd been keeping an eye on me."

"That's still no reason to leave!" Rachel said insistently.

"Ma, you're not listening. It's why I have to leave. If I stay here…I could end up just like Ice or even worse. It's too easy for me fall back into my old habits if I stay here." He reached out to touch the back of his mother's hand in a gentle caress. "I need you to understand…You sent me to Bay City in the first place to keep me from getting into any more trouble than I already was. This time, I'm choosing to leave on my own before I get into trouble. This isn't my home anymore…it hasn't been since I was thirteen. Bay City is home. That's where I belong."

"You're a good man, David. Just like your father." Rachel said with a sad smile. "If this is what you feel you have to do, then go. With my blessing." A single tear found it's way down her cheek. "I don't want you to turn out like Nicky. You still have a chance to make something out of your life."

"I love you, Ma." David said with a tender smile, his mouth trembling with emotion.

"I love you too, David. I'll start dinner while you pack."

"I'm already packed and I'm taking you out to dinner tonight."

Mother and son exchanged a smile as Rachel stood up and went to her room to change for a rare night out on the town.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Huggy Bear Brown was an entrepreneur in every sense of the word. Very few people knew the tall, thin black man's given name besides his mother, a few close friends and the IRS. For the past three years, he had owned and operated a lucrative bar and grill in Bay City called _The Pits._ It had a widespread reputation for it's friendly, relaxed atmosphere where trouble was kept to a minimum, good food that was reasonably priced, and some of the prettiest and sexiest waitresses in town.

Huggy was busy tending bar when he noticed the lean, muscularly build man with the scuffed leather jacket and the thick dark curls walk in the door. With a huge grin on his face, he hurried out from behind the bar and cried out, "Starsky! When did you get back in town?"

David, better known to his friends in Bay City simply as Starsky, grinned as the two men hugged in a heartfelt embrace. They had met their freshman year in high school just after Starsky moved to Bay City to live with his aunt and uncle. Huggy, as he was known even then, had helped the troubled teen adjust to his new life on the west coast and they had quickly became the best of friends. Both raised on the inner city streets, one in New York and the other in Los Angeles, they had understood each other and formed an alliance almost immediately. Cast into an upper middle class neighborhood and going to a school where he was ridiculed for his clothes and his Brooklyn accent, Starsky hadn't made many friends in those early days, so Huggy had been his only ally.

Huggy had kept in touch with Starsky's aunt and uncle over the years and knew about the brunet's miraculous rescue from a POW camp in Viet Nam after five years of being presumed dead by his friends and his family. To say that he was overjoyed to see his old friend, alive and well, frankly would have been an understatement.

"I just got in on the bus about an hour ago." Starsky told him as the two friends pulled apart. "And I sure could use a cold one."

"Coming right up, my white brother." Huggy said "Find a booth and park it."

Starsky moved to an empty booth near the back of the room and sat down. Since he had been sitting in a cramped bus seat for the past three days, it felt good to be able to stretch out his legs and slouch down so he could take some of the pressure off his lower back. Huggy came to the table carrying a tray which a large pitcher of ice cold beer, two glasses, a bowl of pretzels, and two sandwiches that immediately caught Starsky's attention after eating out of vending machines at the rest stops for most of his journey.

When Huggy sat one of the plates in front of him, he immediately picked up the sandwich and took a healthy bite. It was a juicy steak sandwich smothered with onions and garnished with steak sauce. Starsky ate half of his sandwich before stopping to wash it down with a long drink of the icy cold brew that Huggy had poured into the glasses.

Huggy watched his old friend with a huge smile on his face. Starsky had regained most of the weight he had lost in Viet Nam but he still had about ten pounds to go before he would be back up to his usual weight of one seventy-five.

"Glad to see your little vacation didn't affect your appetite any." Huggy teased him, familiar with his friends cast iron stomach and usually ravenous appetite.

"Yeah, right." Starsky snorted "It took me weeks after I got back home to be able to eat much at all without tossing it back up."

"So how are you?" Huggy asked, his tone turning serious. "Are you doing okay?"

"As well as can be expected I guess." Starsky said, deftly avoiding a more definite answer. He looked across the table at his old friend, knowing he would understand. "I really don't wanna talk about it, Hug."

"Say no more…the subject is closed. Why'd you come back here? I thought you were gonna stay in New York for good this time."

"So did I…but it's just not home there anymore." he sighed heavily as he finished his beer and poured himself another glass. "Besides…things weren't going too well and I was scared that if I stayed I'd end up picking up old habits again."

"Like boosting cars?"

"Among other things."

"So, are you gonna be staying with Rosie and Al?" Huggy asked, referring to his aunt and uncle.

"No…I don't think so. I'd kinda like to find a place of mine eventually. I was hoping maybe you could put me up for a while." he asked hopefully.

"You got it. I got an empty room right upstairs that you're welcome to use as long as you need to."

"Thanks, Huggy. I knew I could count on you." He finished his sandwich and eyed Huggy's untouched one. Huggy grinned and shoved the plate across the table towards him.

"Help yourself. I just ate anyway."

"Thanks, man." Starsky said, smiling his trademark thousand watt grin that seemed to light up his entire face. He began on the second sandwich with unfettered enthusiasm. For the first time in months, the brunet finally felt at peace with himself. The anger still boiled just beneath the surface but he could control it better here where he felt safe and among friends. He believed that he had made the right decision to return to Bay City. Even though New York had been his home longer, here was where he felt as if he belonged.

"Hey, did you bring any stuff with you?" Huggy asked as he watched his friend finish the second sandwich in record time.

"Yeah, I left it in a locker at the bus station till I found out if you could put me up or not." Starsky told him. "I'll go back and get it later. I'm good for now."

"Come on, I'll show you the room" Huggy said, rising gracefully to his feet. Starsky followed his friend through the crowded bar to a partially concealed stairway at the front of the room near the bar. The two men climbed the steps to the second floor, where Huggy unlocked the only door on the landing. He stepped aside and ushered his old friend inside.

The room was fairly large with a private bathroom. A table and two chairs sat underneath a tiny window overlooking the alley and a small three drawer dresser sat against the far wall. A tiny alcove to the left hid a double bed covered with a brightly decorated spread. The room was open and inviting, perfect for Starsky's basic needs.

"This is great, Hug. Thanks." Starsky said

"No problem, my friend." Huggy said, handing him the key to the room. "It's yours for as long as you need it. No offense but I gotta run before my staff steals me blind." he chuckled under his breath as he let himself out of the room, leaving Starsky alone to explore his new surroundings.

Smiling to himself, Starsky threw himself down on the bed and stretched out. It had been a long trip and he was exhausted. He'd rest for a while before returning to the bus station to collect his duffle bag. His eyes soon drifted shut as he fell into a peaceful slumber.

_The tiny cage sat in the middle of a large clearing with no shelter from the elements. Starsky sat huddled in one corner of the wooden enclosure, shivering in spite of the blazing sun that was beating down from above. His hair and beard was long and matted with tangles. His battered, emaciated body covered with bruises and open wounds, most of them infected and seeping a foul smelling discharge. Most of his fingernails and toenails were missing, the nail beds infected and extremely painful. He could no longer walk and was too weak to move around much. Thirst and hungry were his constant companions. He was dying and he knew it, he prayed for death to come swiftly and take him away from this living hell. He didn't fear death. He welcomed it with open arms. He drifted in and out of consciousness, no longer aware of his surroundings. He didn't even notice when the door to his cage opened and his captors reached in to grab him, pulling him from the cage._

Starsky's eyes flew open, his face drenched with sweat, his breathing harsh and erratic. His gaze flew around his unfamiliar surroundings as he scrambled off the bed and huddled in a corner of the room with his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around his legs. A ragged sob tore from his throat as he buried his face against his knees and struggled to control the abject terror that clouded his mind.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Starsky turned down the street and ducked into the bar on the corner. He had spent most of the day looking for a job and had finally landed one at working at a local construction site. With his financial situation resolved, he could relax and have a couple of drinks before heading back to his tiny room at Huggy's place.

The interior of the bar was dimly lit but even the subtle lighting wasn't enough to cover up the overflowing ashtrays on the bar, the peeling paint on the walls, or the torn seats in most of the booths along the back wall. The noise level was loud and rowdy, a combination of power drinkers, brawlers, a couple of over the hill hookers, and a few local gang members who proudly displayed their colors on the back of their dirty denim jackets. Ignoring the other patrons, Starsky walked up to the bar and slid onto an empty stool.

The barmaid, a heavily made-up redhead with stringy hair and a mouthful of gum, sauntered up to him and said in a bored voice, "What'll ya have, handsome?"

"Give me a beer." Starsky told her. She walked away, blowing bubbles with her gum, and swinging her hips suggestively. The brunet leaned his arms on the bar and ignored the activity around him.

He was on his third beer when the front door opened and a young man walked in. It was immediately apparent that he was out of place in this environment. With his designer jeans and letterman's jacket, he was obviously a student at one of the local colleges, probably out 'slumming' on a dare from his classmates. He had a fresh, wholesome look with his carefully styled blond hair and handsome features. Tall and lean, he had the build of a runner and carried himself with an easy grace that immediately attracted the attention of one of the other patrons.

A tall, stocky man with the body of a body builder crossed the room and stepped in front of the younger man, blocking his path. "Hey, Blondie," he said in a slurred, drunken voice. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"No, thanks." the stranger said in a soft, velvety voice. "I just need to use the phone."

"Now, don't be like that." the body builder said "I'm just trying to be friendly. Ain't nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"Really…I just need to use the phone." the young man repeated nervously. "My car broke down and I need to call somebody to come and pick me up."

"Hell, let me buy you a drink and I'll drive you wherever you need to go." the other man said, dropping a beefy arm over the blond's shoulders.

"No, thanks…" the blond said, automatically stepping back and pulling away from the man's unwelcome embrace. His ice blue eyes reminded Starsky of a deer caught in a car's headlights as the blond's gaze swept around the room anxiously.

"Come on, Blondie," the heavier man said, his voice turning hard and mean. "What are you a cock tease? You come in here looking like that and then get offended when somebody offers to buy you a drink?"

"Please…" the blond stammered nervously "I don't want any trouble. I'll just go some place else."

"Not so fast," the body builder said, reaching out to grab the young man's arm. "You'll leave when I tell you that you can leave…"

"Doesn't sound to me like he's interested." Starsky said loudly enough for the other man to hear. "Ugly apes on steroids must not be his type." Starsky casually swung around on his stool to face the other man.

"Why don't you mind your own fucking business, Curly?" the body builder growled "This is between me and Blondie here." a sneer curled his lip "What's the matter? You jealous cause I saw him first?"

"If I wanted his white ass, I guarantee you I could get it before you could." Starsky said evenly, his eyes never leaving the other man's face. "But, I'm not that hard up."

The blonde temporarily forgotten, the burly man turned his full attention on Starsky. With a roar of outrage, he flung himself at the brunet who was ready for him. Starsky deftly slid off his stool and ducked to one side so that the other man slammed painfully into the bar. Straightening up with a grimace of pain, the man turned and charged at Starsky again. This time the brunet countered by spinning on his left heel and slamming his right foot into the man's chest. The man crashed to the floor. As he struggled to get back on his feet, Starsky grabbed his beer bottle off the bar and busted it over the man's head, while kicking him in the chest at the same time. Keeping hold of the neck of the broken bottle and holding it in front of him as a weapon, Starsky backed up towards the stunned blond. Grabbing the other man's arm, he hissed "Get the fuck out of here while you can!" When the blond stared at him blankly, Starsky yelled "MOVE YOUR ASS! NOW!"

The young man came to his senses and turned, running out of the bar. As the door slammed shut behind him, Starsky glared at the Neanderthal who was climbing to his feet, a murderous expression on his face. Several of the other men in the bar who had been passively watching the fight without interfering, now took a threatening step forward.

'Don't be stupid!" Starsky spit out, still brandishing his makeshift weapon "Somebody's gonna get cut if you come any closer! The kid's gone. Let it go!"

Keeping a wary eye on the other customers, who wisely decided to keep their distance from the brunet with the wild eyes, Starsky backed towards the door. When he reached it, he tossed the broken bottle to the floor and darted outside to the relative safety of the street. He disappeared into a nearby alley, pausing behind a overflowing dumpster to catch his breath. He waited but nobody else came out of the bar. Apparently, his little show had impressed them or they had simply lost interest now that him and the kid were both gone and the fight was over.

Starsky slipped out of the alley and started to walk in the opposite direction. He was surprised when he turned the corner and saw the college kid leaning against a dented heap of junk parked at the curb. "What the matter with you, kid? Are you stupid or something? You need to get the hell out of here before that goon comes out and decides to rearrange your pretty face."

"I just wanted to thank you for helping me out back there." the blond said in a determined voice. He held out his hand, "My name's Ken. Ken Hutchinson."

Pointedly ignoring the outstretched hand, Starsky said sarcastically, "You can thank me by getting your white ass out of here, college boy."

"I still have to find a phone to call somebody to pick me up." Ken said "My car's broke down."

"That piece of shit is yours?" Starsky sneered, eyeing the car with contempt. "No wonder it broke down on you. Why don't you tell daddy to fork over the cash for something better than that?" He stared at the fresh faced blond and shook his head. If the kid kept wandering around by himself in this neighborhood, he'd get into trouble for sure. "There's a phone just down the street at the deli on the corner." Starsky told him "You can call a cab from there."

"Gee thanks," Ken said with a brilliant white smile that lit up his whole face. "I owe you big time. What's your name anyway?"

"Starsky." Starsky said over his shoulder as he continued walking down the street. "Dave Starsky." From the corner of his eye, he saw the tall blond dart across the street, jogging towards the deli on the corner.


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER NINE**

Starsky was sitting in his favorite booth at The Pits, enjoying his meal; a juicy steak with all the trimmings. It was cooked to perfection, so tender it almost fell off the bone. He'd put in a long, hard day at the construction site and he was bone tired. But, he had a good reason to splurge, he had gotten his first paycheck that day and it was substantially more then he had been expecting.

"Hey, Dave!" a velvety voice that sounded vaguely familiar said over his left shoulder. "I was hoping I'd run into you again."

Starsky turned his head to find the college student he had bailed out of trouble a few days ago standing behind him with a huge grin plastered on his face. "What are you doing here?" Starsky asked in a none too friendly tone.

"A friend of mine told me about this place and said I should check it out." Ken said, sitting down in the vacant seat across from Starsky without waiting for an invitation. "He told me that the food was great and the owner kept the troublemakers out. I'm glad I decided to stop by."

"Look, kid…I'm glad I could help you out the other day. Let's just call it even and you can go back to wherever you're from and forget about it."

"At least let me pay for your meal and buy you a drink." Ken said, eyeing the remains of Starsky's interrupted meal. "It's the least I can do. You really saved my ass the other day."

"Yeah, well the next time your car breaks down in a neighborhood like that, don't be stupid and walk into the first bar you see to use the phone." Starsky advised him "You're lucky that asshole didn't decide to make mincemeat out of both of us."

"You looked like you had things under control. I never saw anybody who could fight like that."

"Yeah, well…where I grew up you learned to fight like that or you didn't last very long." Starsky said gruffly. He nodded at the patch on Ken's jacket "I wasn't on no college wrestling team." he added with a smirk.

"With that accent you're not from around here. I'd say back east somewhere. Chicago? New York?" Ken guessed.

"Give the man a cigar." Starsky said, returning to his unfinished meal.

"So what brings you out here?"

"What is this? Twenty questions?" The brunet was getting annoyed by the blond's unwanted company. Next time he'd think twice about keeping some college boy from getting his ass kicked if this was what happened when he did. "Look, kid…I did you a favor. We're cool. Okay?"

"Okay…but only if you stop calling me kid." Ken said with a thin smile. "I bet I'm as old as you are."

"Oh, yeah? How old are you? Nineteen, twenty?"

"I'm twenty-four." Ken informed him. "What about you?"

"Okay, so we may be the same age," Starsky told him "But, I guarantee you…I'm still a lot older than you are. While you've been playing college boy, I've been living in the real world."

"You got something against me just because I'm in college?"

"Look, Hutchinson…"

"Just call me Hutch, everybody else does." Ken interrupted him with a smile.

"Look, _Hutch_…" Starsky said, putting a strong emphasis on the young man's nickname that underscored his irritation. "Not all of us have a rich daddy that can afford to send us to college so we can avoid the draft."

"Hey, that's not fair! I didn't try to avoid anything." Hutch declared

"But you still got out of it, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah…I got a student deferment because I'm in medical school..." the blond admitted.

"My point exactly." Starsky said "Most of us regular Joes couldn't afford to go to medical school even if we wanted to. So we're the first ones that Uncle Sam snatched up."

"Look, you don't need to take it out on me just because you couldn't afford to go to college. There's scholarships and loans out there you could have taken advantage of."

"Yeah, right." Starsky said dryly "And bust my ass to pay them back for the rest of my life…not to mention the fact that you have to have good enough grades to get into college in the first place or to get a scholarship. I barely made it through high school as it was."

Their heated conversation was interrupted by Huggy as he suddenly appeared at their table with a pitcher of beer. Sitting it down on the table, along with two clean glasses, he said,

"It looks like you two could use something cold to cool you down." he grinned at Starsky "What's up, Starsk? Don't you know how to play nice with your new friend?" Turning to Hutch, he said "I'm Huggy, the owner of this fine establishment and you are?"

"Ken Hutchinson but you can call me Hutch." the blond said, holding out his hand politely.

Huggy pumped his hand and then grinned as he glanced back at the disgruntled brunet. "Don't let Starsky here scare you off from coming back to see us again. He forgets his manners sometimes. Can I get you gentlemen anything else?"

"Not now, Hug." Starsky growled with a sinister glare at his old friend. "We're just fine."

Huggy gave Hutch a sly wink and said, "He tends to grow on you once you get to know him…if you can get past the attitude." He chuckled to himself as he took his leave and returned to his other duties.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot," Hutch told Starsky "So, why don't we just start over again?"

"You don't know how to give up, do you?" Starsky snorted, surprised by the blond's single-minded persistence.

"Not when I want something bad enough." Hutch admitted with a shy smile.

"And just what is it that you want from me?" Starsky demanded, arching one eyebrow inquisitively.

"Just to get to know you…maybe be friends."

"You and me? Friends?" Starsky said with a smirk. "We come from two different worlds, college boy. You don't fit in mine and I sure as hell don't fit in yours."

"Why should that make a difference?"

"It just does."

"Maybe it does to you but not to me." Hutch insisted, as he helped himself to a glass of beer. "I'll admit that I don't know you…but there's something about you that tells me we could be friends if you'd just give it a chance." he smiled that brilliant smile again that lit up his face. "What have you got to lose?"

"My reputation for starters."

"As what? A bad ass?" Hutch snorted "I think you got that part down pat."

Their eyes locked as the two men shared a genuine smile for the first time since they'd met. Starsky found himself thinking that maybe he could give it a shot. The blond seemed like a nice guy, even if he was a little naïve.


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry for the delay in posting. Have been moving for the past three days into a four bedroom house we have been waiting to get into for the past six months. **

**CHAPTER TEN**

Huggy smiled as the tall blond slid onto a stool at the end of the bar and ordered a beer. Hutch had become a regular at the bar in the past two weeks since meeting Starsky. The brunet still didn't seem quite sure what to make of his friend but seemed willing to tolerate his company for now. Huggy knew that Starsky could use all the friends he could get right now in light of his past. He still refused to talk about his captivity in Viet Nam but Huggy knew that he had nightmares about it at night. He'd heard him scream out in his sleep a few times when he was closing up the bar. Once, he had opened the door to check on him and found the brunet huddled in the corner of the room in the darkness, whimpering and terrified. Huggy had coaxed him back into bed and the next morning, Starsky seemed back to normal. Since then, the thin black man had kept a close eye on his friend, especially at night.

"Hey, Hug…" Hutch said "Have you seen Starsky around?"

"Not tonight. I think he had a date with a pretty little thing he met the other day." Huggy told the big blond with a grin.

"Damn, I was hoping I could win back some of the money I lost the other night playing pool."

"I guess I should have warned you about playing pool with Starsky." Huggy said with a chuckle. "He cut his teeth on a pool cue. He's a regular hustler when he wants to be."

"You've known him a long time, huh?"

"Since high school."

"I thought he was from New York."

"He is originally but his mom sent him out here to live with his aunt and uncle when he was thirteen. He went back home for a while but decided to come back here."

"He's not the easiest guy in the world to get to know. Has he always been like that?"

"More or less."

"He has a lot of secrets, doesn't he?"

"He has a few. Doesn't everybody?"

"And you're not going to tell me what they are, are you?"

"They're not my secrets to tell." Huggy said pointedly.

"He was in Viet Nam, wasn't he?"

"Yeah, for way too long." Huggy said without divulging too much information. He knew that the blond's interest was genuine but there were some things that Starsky had the right to decide if he shared or not with his new friend.

"How long?"

"I think you'd better ask Starsky about that."

"Come on, Hug…what are you trying so hard not to tell me?" Hutch said insistently. A sudden look of insight flared in those ice blue eyes. In a subdued voice, he said, "He was a POW, wasn't he?"

"Yeah," Huggy admitted with a heavy sigh. "For five years…but don't let him know that I told you. He doesn't talk about it."

"Maybe he should."

"And maybe I should win the lottery and retire to Miami." Huggy countered "Look, I know Starsky better than you do. He ain't gonna tell nobody nothing unless he wants to. So, don't try to push him into opening up to you cause it ain't about to happen."

"Look, I may not have been over there myself but I know enough about it to know that it was no picnic. Lots of guys came home from over there really fucked up…and they weren't guests of the Vietnamese government for five years."

"All I'm saying is to give him some space. Don't push him. He's just starting to trust you and believe me that's not easy for him to do these days." Huggy advised

"I just want to be his friend. It sounds like he could really use one right now."

"You're right, he could. One that isn't going to judge him because of his past."

"I'd never judge him, Hug."

"I believe you, Blondie. I don't think you would." Huggy swiped a bar rag across the counter beside Hutch and then strolled away to tend to his other customers. Hutch sat there, nursing his beer, deep in thought. The tiny piece of information about his new friend's past that Huggy had revealed helped him to understand the walls that the brunet constantly threw up to keep anyone from getting too close.

Hutch tossed some bills on the bar to pay for his drink and left the bar. He climbed into his latest clunker, one in a long line of old cars that he had owned since leaving Minnesota. Having grown up in an affluent family, once he was out on his own, he had turned his back on the material possessions that his parents had held so dear. His refusal to embrace the lifestyle that he was entitled too was a constant source of irritation between him and his girlfriend, Vanessa.

He had been surprised when the materialist Vanessa had agreed to move into the tiny off campus apartment that Hutch rented over a Laundromat not far from the college. It didn't take him long to discover that if he wouldn't give her the money to buy the things she wanted, she'd just call her parents to get it. The majority of their fights since moving in together had been over money and Vanessa's extravagant spending. She also resented his budding friendship with Starsky. She hadn't even met the short-tempered brunet and already she'd made it quite clear that she didn't like him. In her eyes, anyone with Starsky's working class background wasn't worth bothering with. It was just one area of many that the couple disagreed on. Hutch tried to see the best in people and put himself in their shoes, while Vanessa totally ignored anyone that she considered her social inferior.

Vanessa was in the bathtub, soaking in bubbles, when Hutch arrived home. She was a beautiful woman with long chestnut colored hair and almond shaped eyes. Her slender body had already graced the cover of one high fashion magazine and she had dreams of furthering her modeling career.

"Where have you been?" she demanded "Slumming again with your new friend?"

"No, he had a date." Hutch told her, leaning down to give her a tender kiss on her offered cheek.

"No doubt a waitress from that bar he likes to hang out in." Vanessa said haughtily.

"I really wish you wouldn't talk about him like that." Hutch scolded her mildly. "You don't even know anything about him."

"And I have no desire to, darling. He's just not our kind."

"And what exactly is _our kind,_ Van?" Hutch asked with heavy sarcasm coloring his voice.

"Not your new friend…that's for sure." Van snorted, stepping out of the tub and reaching for the terrycloth robe hanging on a hook beside the tub. "Really, darling…if you're going to be a doctor someday, you need to use a little bit of judgment when it comes to choosing your friends."

"Van, we're already discussed this. I'm thinking about changing my major. I'm not sure that I'm cut out to be a doctor."

"That's ridiculous." Van said "If it were up to you, you'd end up becoming a social worker or something equally mundane."

"There's nothing wrong with that." Hutch argued "At least then I'd be able to help people who really needed my help."

"You can do that as a doctor."

"It's not the same. There are people out there who can't even afford to go to a doctor, so they get inadequate medical care or none at all."

"So? Then they should get a decent job where they can get medical insurance." Van argued. "But, first most of them would have to get their high school diploma."

Hutch threw up his hands and walked out of the room. There was no hope of getting through to Vanessa about the plight of the poor and the homeless. She would never see any other side of that issue except her own. In her mind, it would always be their fault and their shortcomings that put them in their current situation.


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

Hutch was sleeping when a loud pounding at the front door awakened him with a start. Slipping out of bed, he hurried to the door before the noise woke up Vanessa. He was startled when he opened the door and found Starsky standing on his doorstep. The brunet looked like he'd been in a barroom brawl. His clothes were dirty and his tee shirt was torn. His hands were cut and there was scrape on his left cheek along with dried blood in his dark curls from a fresh cut over his right eye.

"What happened to you?" Hutch asked, reaching out to help an obviously unsteady Starsky into the apartment.

"Wreaked my car…" Starsky slurred, obviously drunk. "Remembered that you lived around here…" He sank down on the sofa with a wince of pain.

"You shouldn't have drinking and driving." Hutch scolded him. "Let me check you out. Do you need to go to a hospital?"

"No hospital!" Starsky said sharply, in a firm, determined voice. "You do it. Okay?"

"Stay put. I'll be right back." Hutch stood up and hurried into the bathroom to get some warm water and medical supplies. When he returned to the tiny living room, Starsky had his head leaned back against the sofa with his eyes closed, snoring softly. He hated to disturb the intoxicated brunet but he needed to check out his injuries. "Come on, buddy." he said "Let me see where you're hurt."

Starsky aroused himself enough to let Hutch pull off his ripped tee shirt, exposing his muscular, well defined chest with it's swirl of soft curls. Other than a few minor cuts on his side and one shoulder, his torso seemed fine. There was a dark bruise forming on his chest where he had probably hit the steering wheel when he wreaked but other than a wince of pain when Hutch palpated the area with his fingers, he didn't seem to have any broken bones in his chest or any trouble breathing. His hands had several small cuts, probably from broken glass but none of them seemed too serious. The scrape on his cheek needed cleaned and the cut on his forehead had stopped bleeding. It was deep but Hutch was confident he could close it with a butterfly bandage. All in all, Starsky was one lucky man. It could have been a lot worse.

Starsky hissed softly as Hutch began to clean his various injuries, washing them with warm, soapy water first, then disinfecting them. Most of them he left uncovered except for a couple of deeper cuts that he covered with a Band-Aid. As he worked, Hutch checked Starsky's reflexes and vital signs. They seemed a little sluggish but he felt certain that was from the alcohol and not his injuries.

"Wanna tell me what happened?" Hutch asked as he worked, his hands quick and gentle.

"Don't know…" Starsky slurred, struggling to focus his attention on one of the big blond instead of three. "Woke up and my car was smashed up…"

"Where at?"

"Twenty-second and Lexington." Starsky told him, naming an intersection just three blocks away.

"So why were you driving when you'd been drinking?" Hutch demanded, trying not to sound too harsh but disappointed that his friend could be so careless.

"Wasn't driving." Starsky denied "Carrie was…too much to drink. She said she'd drive…"

"Who's Carrie?"

"My date…" he grinned crookedly "Had a good time till I passed out."

"Where did Carrie get too?"

"Don't know. She wasn't there when I woke up. Guess she went home."

Hutch frowned, feeling angry at the irresponsibility of a woman who would cause an accident and then disappear, leaving an intoxicated Starsky behind to take the blame. Finished with his first aid, he gently lifted the brunet's legs up onto the sofa. "Get some sleep. We can talk about it in the morning." Hutch told him, smiling as the brunet immediately stretched out and closed his eyes with one arm cradled behind his head.

Hutch straightened up to find a very angry Vanessa standing in the bedroom doorway glaring at him. "What the hell is he doing here?" she demanded

"He had a little accident." Hutch said calmly. "I think he's okay, he just needs to sleep it off."

"Then he should have the courtesy to do it at his own apartment and not here!" Vanessa hissed. "I want him out of here!"

"He'll leave in the morning." Hutch said firmly. "He's in no condition to go anywhere right now."

"Oh, I forgot…Saint Hutch to the rescue." Vanessa sneered. "Either he's gone in the morning or I am."

"Don't threaten me, Van." Hutch said, narrowing his eyes, his voice turning cold and deceptively calm. "Cause right now…you're the one who'd lose. Not me."

Vanessa turned and went back into the bedroom, slamming the door loudly. A moment later, Hutch heard the soft click of the lock being turned. "Fuck…" he muttered under his breath as he walked back into the living room. With Starsky asleep on the sofa, the only place left for the big blond to sleep since Van had locked him out of the bedroom was in the recliner. His back would pay for it in the morning but he was too tired to care.

Vanessa's screeching voice awoke him the next morning with a start. He bolted to his feet, his heart pounding with a surge of adrenaline. "GET YOUR DRUNKEN ASS UP AND GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!" she was screaming at an equally disoriented Starsky, who sat up on the sofa and looked at her blearily.

Van was in rare form but she made a mistake when she reached for the hung-over brunet's arm. Starsky sprang to his feet and slapped her hand away, his sapphire eyes blazing with anger. "What the fuck is your problem, lady? You don't have to scream!"

"I WANT YOU THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" Vanessa yelled, glaring at Starsky maliciously.

"Shut up, Vanessa!" Hutch said firmly without raising his own voice. "Starsky doesn't have to leave if he doesn't want to! This is still my apartment!"

"Really?" Vanessa said, turning her anger on Hutch. "I thought this was _our apartment,_ lover."

"It's my apartment." Hutch repeated, his own temper flaring. "And you will not be rude to my friends."

"Fine. Then you can sleep with your friend instead of me. I'm leaving!" Vanessa declared.

"Go ahead." Hutch said "I really don't give a damn anymore."

Vanessa disappeared back into the bedroom with another loud slamming of the door. Hutch looked at Starsky sheepishly, who looked back with an amused smile on his face.

"Looks like you just lost your lady because of me." Starsky said ruefully.

"Believe me, buddy…it wasn't that much of a loss." Hutch told him. "I think you probably just did me a big favor."

"What am I doing here anyway?"

"Don't you remember?"

"Not a whole lot. The last thing I remember my date was driving me home."

"Well, apparently your date wreaked your car and then took off and left you there."

"She wreaked my car?" Starsky said, his eyes widening in alarm. "Oh, man…I just bought that baby. It's not even paid off yet."

"Yeah, well maybe she didn't mess it up that bad. You said last night that it happened at twenty-second and Lexington but it's probably been towed somewhere by now."

"Shit! They'll suspend my license for leaving the scene of an accident." Starsky said glumly. "And I just got it back!"

"Maybe they won't go so hard on you if you can prove your date was driving."

Hutch suggested.

"Fuck, I don't even know her last name or where she lives." Starsky said with a sigh.

"Then you may be fucked, pal." Hutch said dryly

"Yeah, and I didn't even get off on it." Starsky quipped.

Hutch laughed and impulsively reached out to ruffle Starsky's thick curls. "Maybe next time you'll get lucky. Just make sure you find out her last name and where she lives first."


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

Hutch had just finished his classes for the day when another student told him that he had a phone call in the student union. Hutch thanked him and went back into the building. Inside the student union, he smiled at the young coed behind the desk as he picked up the receiver lying on the counter.

"This is Ken Hutchinson." he said

"Hutch, my man," Huggy's voice said in his ear "Can you come by here and pick up three hundred bucks for Curly?"

"Yeah, sure. But, why doesn't he come get it himself?"

"Cause he's in the pokey and he needs it for bail."

"What? Why? What happened?" Hutch asked, firing questions at the bar keeper in rapid fire fashion.

"Whoa, slow down, Blondie." Huggy said with a laugh. "One question at a time. He's at the twenty-fifth precinct. He was picked up for unpaid parking tickets and not paying on his fine. Nothing major. But, he's none too happy. Jail isn't especially his favorite place to be."

"I hear ya. I'll be there in twenty minutes." Hutch said. Hanging up the phone, he winked at the pretty coed and left the building again, heading for the parking lot. Starsky's car had been totaled in the wreak and he had indeed lost his license for ninety days for leaving the scene of the accident. Luckily, a witness had come forward on his behalf and told the police that there had been a woman in the car with him when the accident occurred. He wasn't charged with DWI because there was no proof that he had been the one driving but he had been ordered to pay a thousand dollar fine for damages caused in the accident to another parked car.

Hutch picked up the money from Huggy and drove to the precinct to bail out Starsky. It took almost thirty minutes to take care of the paperwork, then Hutch had to wait another fifteen minutes for someone to bring Starsky up from the basement holding cells. The brunet looked terrible. There were dark circles under his eyes and his clothes were wrinkled. There were also fresh, suspicious looking bruises on his knuckles, as if he'd been in a fight. Hutch waited until they were safely inside his car before broaching the subject of his injured hands.

"Who won?" he asked offhandedly.

"The wall did." Starsky said flatly, staring out of the window at the passing scenery.

"Why were you beating up an innocent wall?"

"I freaked out a little when they put me in that damned cell." he growled "It reminded me too much of…" he cut himself off before finishing his sentence.

"Of what?" Hutch probed gently, hoping the brunet would start to open up to him.

"Of when I was a kid." Starsky said lamely. "I was locked up a couple of times in juvie."

Hutch doubted if that was the real reason Starsky had busted his knuckles against a wall but took Huggy's advise and didn't push it. He wanted to help Starsky but first the brunet had to want to be helped.

"I paid off your fine and your parking tickets for you." Hutch said, waiting for the possible explosion when the brunet learned what he had done for him. He didn't have to wait long.

"What did you do that for? I could have taken care of it myself." Starsky snapped in an annoyed voice. "I don't need your money, college boy."

"Well, look at it this way…you won't have to beat up anymore walls." Hutch said calmly, unfazed by the brunet's outburst. He noticed that the only time Starsky called him _college boy_ anymore was when he was annoyed or angry with the big blond.

"I'll pay you back as soon as I can." Starsky said firmly. "Is twenty-five bucks a week okay? That's about all I can afford right now."

"Don't worry about it." Hutch said "I'm not."  
"I don't take charity from nobody." Starsky declared "Now, is twenty-five bucks a week good enough or not?"

"Yeah, Starsk. That's fine." Hutch said mildly. At twenty-five dollars a week, it would take Starsky over a year to pay him back but Hutch didn't mind. The money didn't mean as much to him as Starsky's friendship. As Huggy had said, the brunet tended to grow on you after a while. He was tough, foul tempered, cocky and sometimes a real pain in the ass, but underneath all that, Hutch sometimes caught a brief glimpse of a more sensitive and vulnerable side of the brunet that he hoped to get to know better.

Starsky had shared a few details about his past but not many, and nothing about his time in Viet Nam. He had even taken Hutch with him one weekend to meet his aunt and uncle, the surrogate parents that he had lived with from the time he was thirteen until he was drafted at age eighteen. Rosie and Al Starsky were both warm, friendly people who readily accepted their nephew's new friend. They immediately made Hutch feel like he was part of their family. Around his aunt and uncle, Starsky seemed more relaxed and less guarded, smiling and laughing more often. That was the side of the brunet that Hutch longed to see more of.

Starsky had moved out of the room above Huggy's bar a couple of weeks ago and now lived in a small one-bedroom apartment above a two-car garage on Ridgeway Avenue. Unlike Hutch's place which was always a bit messy, Starsky kept his apartment neat and clean with everything in it's place. It was just another side of the brunet's multi-faceted personality that had surprised Hutch since it was such a contrast with the way Hutch had expected Starsky to keep his personal living space.

The apartment was sparsely furnished but what furniture the brunet had purchased was good quality merchandise. His one extravagance was a large mirror that he had mounted on the ceiling above his bed. Hutch had spent an entire afternoon helping him set up the damn thing. He had the bruised fingers and broken nails to show for it. His aunt had generously provided him with the basics he needed to set up housekeeping on his own; dishes, bedding, and some discarded but still working kitchen appliances. She had also given him a beautiful menorah that Starsky kept proudly displayed in his living room.

The two friends had been spending more and more time together, their fledgling friendship growing by leaps and bounds as Starsky became more comfortable with the big blond. But, there some secrets that Starsky still held close and didn't share with anyone. Hutch had spent the night at Starsky's apartment when he helped him move in and he had witnessed firsthand one of Starsky's terrifying nightmares. The brunet's screams had jolted him awake and he had hurried to the bedroom where he found the brunet thrashing around on the bed and swinging his arms at an enemy that only he could see. Hutch had gently coaxed him awake, startled when the brunet voluntarily let the blond cradle him in his arms until he calmed down enough to go back to sleep but he adamantly refused to share the details of his nightmare with him. Having learned about Starsky's dark secret from Huggy, Hutch had no doubt what the nightmare had been about.

As Hutch pulled up in front of his apartment, Starsky looked at him and smiled faintly. "Thanks, Hutch. I really appreciate you helping me out like that. I just don't like feeling like I owe anybody anything."

"Hey, that's what friends are for. Right?"

"Yeah…I guess I forget that sometimes. You wanna come up for a while? I got some beer in the fridge and we can order a pizza."

"Only if you keep all that junk you like on your side and make my half vegetarian." Hutch said with a grin. Although Hutch enjoyed his share of junk food now and then, he didn't make a regular diet out of it the way Starsky did. He tried to eat healthy and keep in shape by jogging five miles each morning. Starsky never seemed to exercise and yet he stayed trim and fit. Of course, he was still working construction, so he got a regular workout on the job each day. Hutch knew that Starsky was looking for another job. He had confided his secret fear of heights to Hutch, a drawback in his present job. Luckily, the company he worked for built houses instead of high rise buildings and, whenever he could, Starsky volunteered to do the jobs that kept him safely on the ground.

"Deal." Starsky said with a grin, as the two men climbed out of the car and started up the steps to his apartment.


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

Hutch glanced at Starsky with a worried frown. The brunet had been withdrawn and sullen all evening. They had met The Pits for a couple of beers and a game of pool but Starsky seemed distracted, unable to keep his mind on the game. Hutch had won when the brunet accidentally sank the eight ball.

"Your game's a little off tonight, buddy." Hutch commented as he put his cue stick back in the rack.

"Hey, everybody's entitled to an off night." Starsky grumbled, leaving his own cue stick lying on the table where he had thrown it in frustration after missing his shot and losing the game.

"You've been in a bad mood all night. Tough day at work?"

"You could say that." Starsky muttered, as they sat down at their usual booth. "I got canned today."

"What for?" Hutch asked in a surprised voice. He knew that Starsky enjoyed his job, even with his fear of heights, and he was a hard worker, often working overtime when they were shorthanded.

"Because some jerk started running his mouth about something he doesn't know anything about and I punched him. Then I punched the foreman when he went to grab me."

"Ouch…" Hutch said sympathetically "Not a good move."

"Yeah and my rent's due next week. By the time I pay it, I'll be wiped out until I find another job."

"I could loan you some money if you need it." Hutch offered

"I'm not taking any more money from you, Hutch. I don't know when I can finish paying you back what I owe you as it is."

"You gonna tell me what the jerk was saying that got you so riled up?"

"He was putting down the vets that came back from 'Nam…" Starsky said "Called us all baby killers and rapists. I told him to shut the fuck up and he wouldn't listen…then he asked me how many babies I killed while I was over there."

"I'd have punched him too if he said something like that to me." Hutch said in his friend's defense. "I don't blame you for laying him out."

"None of us asked to go over there, Hutch." Starsky said, his eyes filled with a deep sadness. "Most of us were just a bunch of scared kids doing what we were told…what we'd been trained to do."

"I know. It must have been hell."

"You have no idea, Blondie, what kind of hell it really was."

Sensing that he might finally be able to get Starsky to open up, at least a little, about his experiences over there, Hutch said softly,

"How long were you over there?"

"My tour was only supposed to be for eighteen months." Starsky said, deftly avoiding the question. "I ended up there a lot longer than I expected to."

Hutch hesitated and then asked the next logical question in response to that answer. "How come? Most guys couldn't wait to come back home."

"I wanted to come back home too. Believe me, I wanted to come home. But, I couldn't."

"Why not?" Hutch probed gently, hoping he could keep Starsky talking without spooking him.

Starsky's eyes took on a distant, far away look and it was several minutes before he finally spoke again. "My unit got called out on routine patrol in the middle of the night. It was dark. It was wet. And it was raining. You could barely see your hand in front of your face. About two hours out from base camp, we walked into an ambush. Six men were killed right away, two others injured and left there in the dirt to die. The rest of us were captured by the VC." Starsky paused and Hutch waited patiently for him to continue with his story. "There were nineteen of us all together that day. They tied us up and marched us through the jungle for three days. Blindfolded so we had no idea where we were. They hit us with their riffles if we didn't move fast enough or if one of us stumbled.

You couldn't see it coming so you never knew when you were liable to get hit. I was so fucking scared…I thought they were going to take us some place and kill us." his voice cracked with emotion. "I wish to God that they had."

"They took you to a POW camp, didn't they?" Hutch said softly, not wanting to distract Starsky from his tale.

"Yeah…one of the worst ones they had. When we got there, they separated us into two groups. There were only six other guys in my group. They made us watch while they lined up the rest of the guys, thirteen of them, and then shot them one by one in the head. I didn't figure out until later why I ended up in one group and not the other." He continued without elaborating on that statement. "They took the rest of us and made us strip off our uniforms. Then they gave us these rags to wear that didn't cover up much and put us in these little wooden cages that were so tiny we couldn't stand up straight. They were right out in the middle of this clearing…no protection from the rain or the sun. It was so damned hot during the day that you felt like you were in an oven and so cold at night that you shivered and had to curl up in a ball to try and stay warm." Starsky took a long swallow of his beer and signaled the waitress for another one. He looked at Hutch and tried to smile. "You don't really wanna hear this, not any more than I want to talk about it."

"Yeah, I do and I think it's something you need to talk about."

"What are you now? A shrink?"

"No, just a friend who's willing to listen."

"What if you don't like what you hear?"

"The only reason I'm not going to like what I hear is because it happened to you…and to a lot of other guys who went over there…guys who didn't make it back."

"That's what I keep asking myself, Hutch. Why did I make it back and they didn't?" Starsky's voice took on a hard, rough edge "Why did I survive all that time while everybody else around me was dying? What made me so fucking special?"

"I don't know…I don't think anybody can answer that question. Anybody who goes through a traumatic experience like you did and survives asks themselves the same question. It's called survivor's guilt."

"Survivor's guilt, huh? Well, I got a hell of a lot to feel guilty about."

"Of all the other men that were in that camp, only six of us lived long enough to get rescued and only four of us made it back to the States." He smiled thinly "And the last I heard, one of them put a gun in his mouth and blew his fucking brains out."

"But, you didn't."

"Not fucking yet…but some days, Hutch…I come real damn close." He shoved himself to his feet and dug some money out of his jeans. "Let's go back to my place and if I get drunk enough…maybe I'll tell you the rest of the story."

Hutch followed Starsky outside and they drove back to his apartment in silence. When they arrived, Starsky immediately went into the kitchen and pulled an unopened bottle of Jim Beam out of the cabinet along with two glasses. "I was saving this for a special occasion…" the brunet said dryly "Guess this is it."

"You sure you want any more booze?" Hutch asked

"Believe me, Blondie…if you expect to hear any more of this story, I need to get a lot drunker than I am first." For the next hour, that's exactly what the brunet proceeded to do. Finally, he leaned his head back against the sofa and continued where he had left off.

"The guards used to come for some of us everyday…sometimes all of us, sometimes just one or two. There were other men there that had been captured before we were but they seemed to like new meat the best and that's all we were to them…just pieces of meat that they could do whatever they wanted to with." A bitter smile tugged at Starsky's lips. "They had all these ingenious ways to torture us…to try and get us to tell them things we didn't know. Sometimes, it was just a beating…with either their fists or a whip…other times, they'd tie us to this board and tilt us upside down and then force water down our throat and up our nose until we thought we were going to drown. Or they'd tied us up in all these contorted positions, like some kind of pretzel, and leave us like that for hours. You have no idea how much it hurts when they finally untie you."

He took another stiff drink to fortify himself. "My favorite was when they wet you down with a bucket of water while you were tied to a chair and then they'd take these little alligator clips and fasten them to your nipples, your nuts, and the tip of your cock. Then they'd see how many times they could shock you before you started screaming. I lasted for almost twelve hours one time…that was some kind of record. Pissed 'em off, so they kept turning up the juice."

"Jesus Christ…" Hutch muttered under his breath at the images Starsky's words brought to mind.

"They pulled out my toe nails, my finger nails, one by one…" Starsky went on "They soak your hands or feet in water first for hours to loosen 'em up but it still hurts like hell…My hands and feet got so infected, that I couldn't walk anymore and could barely move my fingers. When I finally got to the military hospital in Germany, they thought for sure I was going to lose most of my toes and a few of my fingers too." He took another long drink, his words slurring badly the more he drank. Now Hutch knew why Starsky had to get drunk to tell him the rest of his story. "They never gave us enough to eat either…just a bowl of water with a few grains of rice in it once a day…sometimes some wilted carrots or rotten cabbage if they felt generous. We were so hungry all the time…we'd eat whatever crawled into our cage. Bugs, insects, maggots…I even ate a rat once." The brunet continued, lost now in his memories "When anybody died, they just left them there in their cage to rot. The smell was terrible and at night, you could hear the rats eating on their bodies. They hardly ever gave us any water either, so I used to drink the water in the puddles on the ground outside my cage. Used to make me sicker than hell cause of all the shit in it." He swallowed hard, a single tear sliding down his cheek. "I watched them skin one of my best friends alive…I can still hear his screams in my dreams. Then they left him hanging from this tree to die. It took him most of the afternoon." a muffled sniffle escaped from the brunet "Once of the guards got off on holding a gun against our head and pulling the trigger. Usually the gun was empty but not always. I used pray that I'd be one of the lucky ones and that the next time there'd be a bullet in it but I never got that lucky…" his voice trailed off into silence as the alcohol in his system finally sent him into a blissful stupor.

Hutch choked back the lump in his throat as he gently covered Starsky with a colorful Indian blanket that he kept over the back of the couch. He was sure there was more to the story that Starsky hadn't told him but he couldn't bear to hear any more. He wanted to hunt down the monsters that had done such terrible things to his friend and kill them with his bare hands. And he would have taken great pleasure in doing it too.


	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

**Warning: This chapter contains some descriptions of graphic sexual abuse and male rape. Please do not read any farther if this offends you. **

Starsky paced the floor in his apartment, glancing at his watch frequently. Hutch should be there soon. For the past three weeks, Starsky had been seeing Hutch's friend, Les, and he had to admit that it was helping to talk things out with him. His nightmares had almost vanished and the frequent migraines that he had suffered from since his rescue and return to the States were better too. But there was still part of his story, his darkest secret, that he hadn't told Hutch and he knew that the time had come to tell the blond all the horrid details. Les had encouraged him to come clean with Hutch and share the most intimate details of his captivity with the big blond. He just hoped that Hutch could handle hearing the rest of the story. He had also made another major decision that he needed to talk to Hutch about but that could wait until later.

Hutch arrived right on time, as usual bearing a six pack of beer. Drinking while they talked had become a familiar ritual that relaxed them both. Both of them knew their limit and seldom drank to get drunk. If they were at the Pits and had over three beers a piece, Huggy automatically took away their car keys and called them a cab when they were ready to go home.

As the two friends settled down on the sofa, Starsky looked at Hutch and said, "I never did finish telling you what happened to me in Viet Nam."

"No, you didn't." Hutch said "I figured you get around to it when you were ready to."

"Well, I'm ready now…so brace yourself." Starsky said with a thin smile. He took a deep breath and began, "Remember I told you how when we first got to the camp, some of us were spared while the others were shot?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, it wasn't until later on that I found out why." Starsky said "See, some of the guards…to them we were less than human any way…so they figured they could...uh… use us for their own pleasure."

Hutch looked confused for a moment and then his eyes darkened dangerously, "Are you trying to tell me that they used you sexually?"

"Yeah…that's how they picked the ones that lived and the ones that died in the camp. Whenever new men were brought in, they picked out the ones they liked to keep alive. The others were killed and disposed of. At first, they didn't do anything to us but torture us like the other guards did…it wasn't until later when we were beaten down and too weak to fight that they started their fun and games with us. They'd always come for us in the middle of the night. Sometimes once a week, sometimes more often than that depending on if you were one of their favorites or not."

"How often did they come for you?"  
"About once a week at first…later it was almost every night." Starsky admitted

"The first time they took me out at night, I tried fighting them when one of them tried to make me suck his cock…until one of his friends put a rope around my neck and choked me with it. Then when I still refused to open my mouth, one of them held my nose shut so I couldn't breath unless I did…then the other stuck his cock in and told me to do what I was told."

"So you did?"

"Not the first time. The first time I almost bit it off." Starsky said, smiling grimly at the memory.

"What happened then?"

"They beat me almost to death, then threw me in the pit for three days without any food or water. Then they took me back to the building where they held their little parties and made me suck each of them until I got sick and threw up all over one of them."

"I bet that didn't make 'em too happy."

"Nope, it earned me another three days in the pit." Starsky finished his beer in one long swallow and reached for another. "After that, they came for me almost every night. One of them liked it when I fought back…that way he could be as rough as he wanted to be. He was the one who raped me the first time. He tore me up so bad inside that my ass bled for a week. The others weren't too happy about that." Starsky took a deep shuddering breath "Towards the end, just before I was rescued…they decided to auction me off to the highest bidder. The one who bought me got to keep me for their own personal pet. Guess who won?"

"The most sadistic one."

"You got it, Blondie…right on the money. When our guys raided the camp and rescued us…I wasn't in the compound with the others. I was in a cage in his private quarters. One of the guys who was there that day told me later that they thought for sure I was dead when they found me. I didn't respond to any of them and I was barely breathing. They killed the guard that had me…cut his throat and left him lying in the dirt. They killed all the guards that day." Starsky sighed heavily, his story almost finished and his heart lighter. "I was in the hospital at the military base for almost two weeks before I came out of it enough to realize that I'd been rescued. After five stinking years in that hell hole…I was finally going home. They treated me for venereal disease…I had quite a dose of the clap. The doctor said I was so scared and tore up inside that he had to operate to repair the damage, otherwise, I'd still be shitting in a bag today. They also told just before I came home that I'd never be able to have a kid. All the kicks to my groin had left me sterile. So, I came home damaged goods…both physically and mentally."

"Fuck…now I really want to kill those bastards." Hutch growled, feeling nothing but compassion for his friend.

"I do…every night in my dreams."

"How long did they…you know…" Hutch asked, unable to put into words the question he wanted to ask.

"Fuck me?" Starsky said it for him. "I honestly don't know. I lost all track of time while I was over there. I had no idea that it had been five years until a nurse at the hospital told me. It seemed more like a lifetime." He looked at Hutch somberly and said, "And the worst part…there's still places like that over there…men like me that they haven't found yet. I guess I really was one of the lucky ones."

"You can say that again. Does Les know all this?"

"Yeah and we're talking about it. I'm think I'm finally starting to get a handle on things but it's taking time. A lot of stuff I didn't remember until we started talking about it…and most of it, I wish I could forget."

"So what now?"

"I'm going keep talking to Les as long as he thinks I need to and in the meantime, I'm making some others chances in my life too."

"Like what?"

"I'm changing jobs again."

"What are you gonna do this time?"

"I've applied to the police academy. I wanna be a cop just like my old man."

"A cop, huh?" Hutch said in a surprised voice. "Well, I happen to think that you'll make one hell of a good cop."

"And not just a beat cop…I wanna be a detective someday."

"I bet you'll do it too. I think the whole cop thing suits you."

"What about you?"

"What about me?" Hutch asked in a puzzled voice

"You keep saying that you wanna so something where you can make a difference. That you wanna help people who need your help, not just the ones who can afford it. How about going to the Police Academy with me?"

"Me? A cop?"

"Sure, why not? We could even be partners someday. Wouldn't that be cool?"

"It's one of the craziest ideas I've ever heard but I like it."

"Detectives Starsky and Hutchinson." Starsky said with a grin "I like the sound of that."

"Hey, I think Detectives Hutchinson and Starsky sounds better."

"Naw, doesn't have the same ring to it."

Both men laughed as they began to plan their new future together. A chance encounter between two men from two completely different worlds, had led to an unexpected friendship that had saved them both from their own personal demons. A unique bond that would only grow stronger with the passage of time. The beginning of me and thee.


End file.
